The Incredible Shortshots
by ICRepresentative
Summary: The Incredibles one shots and shortshots of various genres on various themes. Syndrome, Jack Jack, Mirage, and Edna so far.
1. Pride

**Disclaimer**: The Incredibles belong to DisneyPixar.

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**Pride**

Syndrome surveyed the crowd below him. They cheered! They clapped! They worshipped!

_It took a bit of work to get it good enough to fight you…_

This was what it was supposed to be! Fifteen years of waiting was almost too much… but results were so worth it. So worth it.

_So you killed Supers just to realise your insane ambition!_

Syndrome looked over his shoulder at his creation, and couldn't help but smirk. Oh, yes, this baby was so worth it. Anything to bring him back on top.

_I'm Syndrome! Your nemesis!_

And the only Super left in the world. The one everyone would look up to. The one everyone would see as a hero. The one to be feared, worshipped, adored… There'd be posters of him in every child's room in every city of every country. His weapons would fill the stockpiles of every country's arsenal. This was his dream.

_Showtime_.

"Looks like somebody needs to teach this hunk of junk a lesson." He fired a few harmless bolts of light at the Omnidroid, then pressed a button on his controller. The robot's arm fell off. The crowd cheered. Their Super Hero had come to save them.

Syndrome lifted his hands, welcoming the praise. This was all his doing. This was his dream. This was everything he'd worked for. Nothing would stop him now.

The robot attacked him from behind, flinging him into the side of a building with almost callous cruelty.

_Remember, it's a learning robot.  
Let me guess… it got smart enough to wonder why it had to take orders._


	2. Mozart

**Disclaimer**: JackJack belongs to DisneyPixar. Mozart belongs to Mozart.

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**Mozart**

What? What was this? This music… I've never heard this before. What is it? It's beautiful! It's like… I don't know how to describe it! It reaches into my very soul, the very fibre of my being… it resonates!

It's like water to a desert! It's like a thousand flowers blooming in a grassy field! I can't describe it - there _are_ no words in the world to describe it! It's magic! Pure and simple magic! Notes on paper transformed into beautiful, beautiful music! No strident repetitive chords for me! This music is what I crave! This soul-stirring joy!

Joy! Bliss! Ecstasy! A glimpse into the marvels of the universe!

Oh, I see so clearly now. For too long I've been carried through life, shown what is simple and neat. I want more than that. I want to see everything! I want to experience life! I want to be all that I can be!

"It's time for cognitive developm---"

Come play with me, Kari! Catch me!


	3. Attraction

**Disclaimer**: The Incredibles are Disney Pixar's property.

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"Abort! Abort! There are children in here!"

What? Children? We were going to kill children? I turned to face the hero I had admired since I was a little girl. Please, no, let it be a bluff.

"No!"

But there was no denying the frantic tone of the woman in the plane, nor the look on Mr Incredible's face.

"Abort! Abort!"

Children! Mr Incredible had children? And the woman on the plane… his wife? Impossible! Syndrome had always told me…

No. It all made sense now. That's where Mr Incredible's strength comes from. Having someone to love. Having someone to protect.

And Syndrome doesn't even bother to try to save me when I try to protect him. How wrong I was.

"It would be easy, like snapping a toothpick."  
"Show me."

Strength does not come from exploiting the weakness of others. Power does not come from weaponry or persuasion.

I told Mr Incredible I was attracted to power. I told him it was my weakness. Both are still true. I've just finally seen what true power and strength really are.

And Syndrome doesn't have it.

Attraction can turn to aversion. "Next time you gamble, bet your own life." Your power is nothing now.

I can imagine the look on his face - _Mirage, baby, what is going on? Women and their hormones_…

You forget who I am, 'Syndrome'. My name is Mirage. What you see is not what you get.


	4. Where'd He Come Up With Those Tights?

**Disclaimer**: The Incredibles belongs to Disney Pixar, who broke up recently.

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"Whaaaat?" Edna's mouth dropped in horror and amazement. "Dahling, you cannot be see-ree-ous!"

The voice on the other end of the line was pleading desperately. "Please! I need this suit, Edna!"

"Dahling, I do not create 'suits'." She stressed the word, as though it were an abomination. "I create **_ART_**!" She sneered into the phone, "And you have destroyed my art without any consideration for the pain that is causes me! For shame!"

"It wasn't my fault!"

"No, no, dahling. Of course not. It never is the hero's fault." She slid out of her chair and started pacing around the room. "Let me guess - in the final fight with your great nemesis, right before you saved the city and the world and your girlfriend, blah blah blah…"

"She's not my…"

"… You just happened to let yourself be attacked and your costume was ripped and torn and _soiled_!" Edna fumed.

A sheepish silence. Then, "Something like that."

Edna sighed, flinging herself onto a plush velvet divan. "Dahling, dahling, dahling… do you know how much creating your outfits takes out of me? Do you know how hard it was to follow and remain true to your childish sketches, your pitiful ideas from a feeble mind? The strain! The pain! The ag-oh-_nee_! If you had simply called me first, before you decided what your 'costume' would look like! I could have given you much more than just a pair of tights!" She swooned.

"Until three weeks ago, Edna, I didn't even know you existed."

Edna ignored him. "You have no mind for the creative; no understanding of beauty! You shame yourself with your disgusting designs! I spit on your costume! You are a shame to the Supers!"

The voice on the other end of the phone sounded shocked. "Edna, please! I… I just need another costume! The same design, but… I need it." He sounded desperate. "Please, Ms Mode."

Edna considered this for a split second. "Oh, stop your crying, dahling. You know that Edna Mode will not be swayed by the pleas of such a bohemian."

Silence on the other end of the line. Then, "I need this, Edna. Please. It's urgent."

"Does your city need saving _again_?"

"…Yes."

Edna sighed. "Such is the way of the world, dahling. Wherever there is a Super, there will be someone to threaten him, and his city, and the ones he loves. And only a Hero can save them."

"And I need your art to do such a thing." The voice said, turning Edna's words back on her.

They had the desired effect. "So, Dahling, how many suits do you want made?"

A stunned pause. "I thought you said that your work was 'art'."

"Psh!" Edna flapped a hand, then started pacing again. "If Warhol can mass-produce a print of his favourite food and call it art, then why cannot I create you your glorified Halloween costume and simply be happy that I have made the world, in some small way, a better place? And, it would still be art in it's small, red-and-blue manner…"

"Edna, thankyou!"

"Yes, yes, yes." Edna examined her nails. "Lifesaver, queen, intelligent, beautiful, a genius… your compliments do not sway me, boy. I have made my decision. Your costumes shall be completed ASAP, and shipped to you faster than that." She tapped the orders in the computer and "I can only hope you haven't grown. The measurements you gave me will not be changed! Understand that! You must simply adapt to your costume because I am performing an unusually important and rarely-given favour for you!" She smiled, then added, with a purr, "Though I must say that I am honoured that would call me all the way from New York."

"I can…"

"And of course," Edna continued, "Money is no object, because I know you have a hard time supporting both yourself and your mild-mannered alter-ego on your hateful job, as well as keeping your secret from the public, your friends, your collegues, your girlfriend, and your aunt. This shall be on the house. A present, shall we say, from the one who created your most marvellous design, bringing it to life! I hope FedEx is no problem because they did such a good job shipping out your first design…" She paused for breath.

The intercom buzzed. Paul, her security advisor, answered it with his usual stoniness. "Who is it?"

"An old friend." A baritone voice rumbled, in a friendly and trustworthy manner.

Edna blinked, momentarily distracted. She had a visitor? An old friend?

The voice on the phone sounded relieved. "Edna, thank you so much! I owe you one!"

"Yes, yes, yes." Edna said impatiently. "I know, dahling, I know. Now, go off and catch flies, or whatever it is you do. I have a guest." She hung up, then rushed to the security booth and pushed Paul out of his seat in order to see who her visitor was.

Thoughts of Peter Parker's phone call were already far from her mind.

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**A/N**: Inspired by that good ole Weird Al song, 'Ode to a Superhero' 


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